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Epilogue
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"You haven't slept with him yet? Are you kidding? You've been dating him for six months!"
Ignoring her friend's incredulous stare, Brianna Devon leaned forward on her bedroom vanity stool and carefully finished applying a second coat of mascara—one coat more than she'd ever worn before. "Are you sure this much mascara won't look … you know … cheap?" Doubtfully she studied the effect in the mirror.
Chloe rolled her eyes and shook her auburn locks, which had been expensively styled to look disheveled. "Go ahead, Bri, get wild and crazy. Dare to wear two coats of mascara." With an affectionate smirk, Chloe rested a hand on a slender hip, her French-tipped nails gleaming. "Would I tell you to do anything that might result in 'cheap'?"
Brianna slanted her an apologetic grin. She'd forgotten whom she was talking to—the town's resident queen of chic. She'd called in the "big guns" to prepare for tonight.
"So what's the problem?" persisted Chloe as she raked Brianna's tawny waves into an artful disarray that cascaded to her shoulders—shoulders left brazenly bare by her new sweater dress. "Why haven't you gone to bed with him yet? You've been friends since high school, so it's not like you don't know him well enough. Just last month you were telling me how your friendship has 'blossomed into love.' You're not kids anymore; you're pushing thirty. So what's stopping you?" With a sudden thought, Chloe narrowed her eyes in the mirror. "He does want to, doesn't he?"
"Very much," Brianna replied, unwilling to raise doubts about Evan's virility. After a moment, though, she admitted, "At least, he did want to. But I … well, I haven't allowed our relationship to go much beyond the kissing stage."
"Kissing stage?" The concept was evidently foreign to Chloe. "What have you been doing, slapping his hands away?"
Brianna winced. "Not slapping. More like … evading." In quiet misery, she added, "The last time we were together, he didn't even kiss me. It's like he's given up. He thinks he doesn't turn me on."
"Gee, whatever gave him that impression?"
"I'm going through with it tonight, though," she vowed, "come hell or high water."
"What hell, what high water?" Chloe cried, lifting her hands in bewilderment. "It couldn't be your first time, could it? You dated that pre-med student back in college for your entire freshman year, and plenty of guys since then."
"No, it wouldn't be my first time, but I feel that when it comes to sex, it's better to err on the side of caution."
"How cautious can you get? You told me that since Evan moved back here, you and he have fallen in love. Have you changed your mind?"
"Absolutely not. Our relationship transcends the physical. We have a true communion of the mind, of the spirit. He's intelligent, sincere, dependable, ambitious—everything I want in a man."
And he'll never own me. Although Brianna didn't voice the words, she knew this was the most important aspect of any relationship she'd ever have. Her mate would have to respect her need for self-reliance. She'd earn her own money, build her own credit, maintain her own house that no one could make her leave. Her career would be her top priority. No relationship of hers would ever turn into an economic prison…
And yet, she wanted a loving relationship. At times, she yearned for it. How many men in the world would understand her as Evan did?
"You'd be nuts to let him get away," pronounced Chloe.
Brianna bit her lip. "It might be too late. He hasn't called me in two weeks. Of course, he has been out of the country on business." But she knew that business had never kept him from calling before. Was she losing him? Losing her chance to find out if he truly was the man she loved?
With a renewed sense of mission, she turned back to the mirror and smoothed on sultry, gleaming lipstick—shades deeper than her usual gloss. She'd put an end to their estrangement tonight. She'd compensate him for the frustration she'd caused him; make it well worth his wait.
"If you don't want him, I know plenty of women who do," warned Chloe. "He's a Harvard grad, rich, and CEO of the biggest firm in town—the firm you work for, I might add."
"That has nothing to do with my feelings for him!" In fact, she wished Evan wasn't her boss. She hated to think that her position as human resources director might be attributed to their relationship. She'd earned a degree and worked nine long years to achieve that title. Evan had lived away in Boston for most of that time. He'd come back home only three years ago to take over as CEO.
When he'd first come back to Pleasantville, they'd met as old friends, happy to see each other and reminisce about high school. Conscious of their co-workers, though, Brianna had discouraged his attentions to avoid the appearance of favoritism. It hadn't been easy; Evan had been determined to renew their friendship, to deepen it into something more.
And she'd thoroughly enjoyed his company. She had, after all, nursed a secret crush on him in high school, although he'd been dating someone far prettier than she at the time. And he had grown into the living embodiment of her ideal man. It seemed foolish to continue turning down dates with him just because they worked for the same firm. Yet she couldn't help feeling sensitive about dating her boss.
"I know your relationship with Evan doesn't have squat to do with your career," Chloe assured her. "I just meant he's a real catch. And to top it off, he's a genuine Adonis. Most women would give anything to be in Evan Rowland's bed." Chloe's mouth curled in a smile. "Although personally, I'd prefer Jake's. I have a soft spot for bad boys."
At the mention of Evan's twin brother, Brianna dropped her lipstick into her purse and clicked it shut with a resounding snap. "There's no accounting for taste."
Chloe let out a brief laugh. "Oh, I forgot. Jake's been a thorn in your side since high school, hasn't he? But you've got to admit, he's an attractive thorn."
"Physically attractive, yes. He is identical to Evan. But only in appearance. That's where the similarity ends."
"They both inherited their parents' fortune," Chloe pointed out, "which means they're both filthy rich."
"Which isn't necessarily a plus." With money came power—and power could be used to hurt as well as to help. Her mother had married a man with considerable income and had entrusted her future to him. Look where it had gotten her. Trapped—under his thumb—for too many painful years, then unable to support herself when the marriage had ended.
Brianna wrenched her thoughts away from hurtful topics. "No amount of money could ever make up for Jake's lack of moral character. He's an irresponsible, womanizing troublemaker." Just the thought of him raised her blood pressure—and brought to mind his wicked blue-eyed gaze, which made her stomach clench in a disturbing way. "He has a new bimbo on his arm every time he comes to town."
"Yeah, and they all have expensive jewelry and good tans. I wouldn't mind jet-setting with him for a while."
Thoroughly annoyed, Brianna turned away from Chloe and fastened pearls to her earlobes. She didn't want to think about Jake Rowland tonight. She wanted to forget his very existence. Because even though she'd never admit it, he was at the root of her problem. When Evan became aroused and gazed at her with that certain gleam in his eyes, his dark brown hair all tousled and glowing golden, his intent clearly sexual, he reminded her too much of Jake!
Jake had always been the one who undressed her with his eyes—Brianna and every other reasonably attractive female he came across. The hell of it was, once she started thinking about Jake and all the rotten stunts he'd pulled on her, the humiliation he'd always caused her, the dread she'd carried around in her heart at the very possibility of running i
nto him, her sensuous mood with Evan was blown.
Rising from the vanity stool, Brianna gazed critically at her transformed self in the wall mirror. The black, off-the-shoulder cashmere dress she'd bought for the occasion molded sleekly to her body—a far cry from her usual discreet suits or slacks. "How do I look?"
"Stunning," pronounced Chloe.
"From the moment I walk in his door, I want him to know that tonight's special." And though it was true, she also knew that the makeover was as much for her own benefit as for his. She needed to immerse herself in sensuality to get into the mood, to stay in the mood. To carry her past mental distractions. "I want him to be so consumed with passion that he sweeps me away to another dimension."
"So he doesn't sweep you away, huh?"
"I didn't mean it like that." In all fairness, she couldn't blame her lack of passion on Evan. He couldn't help having a reprobate brother who looked exactly like him. "Thanks for helping with my femme fatale makeover, Chloe. My confidence is at an all-time high."
"If you change your mind and back out again, let me know," Chloe ordered as Brianna walked her to the front door. "I'll make you an appointment with a sex therapist."
Mildly alarmed at the prospect, Brianna assured her that a therapist wouldn't be necessary. Looking doubtful, Chloe left for her own Friday night date.
Brianna returned to her bedroom, spritzed on provocative cologne and glanced one last time in the mirror. She barely recognized herself. Wouldn't Evan be surprised at the change? Her appearance alone should make it perfectly clear that she was ready for him tonight. She'd let nothing get in their way this time … especially not thoughts of Jake.
At least she didn't have to worry about him showing up in person. He'd been jet-setting around the globe for years now. The few times he'd been back for brief visits had been bad enough.
At a charity fund-raiser while she'd been dancing with Evan—a rare treat, since they hadn't been dating yet—Jake had cut in, insisted she dance with him, then waltzed them both into the swimming pool. He claimed to have lost his footing. Brianna knew he'd done it on purpose.
During another visit, he'd sent her a singing telegram for her birthday—in the middle of her speech at the civic club. A man in a cop uniform stormed in, handcuffed her to the microphone, then proceeded to sing, prance and shed his clothes all around her. Jake must have paid him generously—nothing had stopped the young man from stripping down to that ridiculous loincloth and gyrating beside her. At the back of the room had stood Jake Rowland, with amusement brimming in his eyes. Brianna's fists tightened at the memory.
She was glad, more than glad, that he rarely visited their small hometown. But she wouldn't think about Jake tonight. No matter what.
Shrugging into her soft black coat, she strode out of her bungalow and into the crisp October air, her high heels clicking against the stone front steps. Evan would be home from his business trip by now. His flight had been due to arrive this afternoon.
She'd give him a pleasant welcome home after his two weeks away. A very pleasant welcome home. By the time she was finished with him, Evan would have no doubts left about her capability of enjoying hot, steamy sex with him. Hopefully she'd have no doubts left, either.
Evan's Townhouse, which was actually owned by his family, along with the entire downtown area and the five-story office building behind it, looked welcoming with a flickering glow in its windows that told of a fire in the hearth.
At least she knew he was home. With a shiver of nervousness, she hesitated on the doorstep. What if he wasn't alone?
After less than a minute, she shook her head at her own anxiety. Evan wouldn't have another woman at his apartment without breaking off their relationship first. He prided himself on his decency and fairness in all matters. It was one of the things she loved so much about him.
Extending a hand that slightly trembled, she rang the bell. When there was no response, she breathed a sigh of relief. Acute relief. She realized then that if he had opened the door, she might not have gone through with it. How disastrous that would have been! He'd have thought her the worst kind of tease—dressed for seduction, dropping by for an unexpected evening visit … then refusing to make love. Perhaps it was for the best that he hadn't answered.
Just as she turned to go, the door swung open. Evan peered out at her, his hair damp as if it had been towel dried, his broad chest and muscled shoulders bare. He wore only a bath towel fastened at his lean waist. He stared at her in blank surprise.
Brianna stared back at him, speechless. She hadn't expected him to answer the door half-naked. She'd seen him shirtless before, of course, and in swimming trunks that had covered even less than his towel did now. But the sun-bronzed masculine splendor of his form and face evoked a deep feminine appreciation that hadn't hit her with such force in quite some time. He was simply the most breathtaking man she'd ever seen.
"Brianna!" Pleasant surprise sounded in his deep-timbered voice. She'd never before paid him a visit without calling in advance. He leaned against the doorjamb and a lazy smile lifted one side of his mouth, deepening a vertical crease alongside it. "Long time no see."
Held motionless by that smile, Brianna felt a sensual pooling of warmth deep within her. And suddenly the idea of seduction didn't seem so cumbersome. In fact, it took on a definite allure. Maybe she was ready, after all.
"It has been long," she murmured. "Too long." Brushing past him on her way into the apartment, she removed her coat and turned her face up to his, inexplicably breathless as her gaze played over his handsome features. Perhaps it was her own frame of mind, but something about his answering stare packed a more powerful punch than she'd expected. Shivery anticipation swept through her. And they hadn't even touched yet!
Emboldened by the good beginning, she tossed her coat onto a chair and kissed him lightly on the lips. Desire curled through her.
When she drew back, the surprise—which hadn't left his gaze—had intensified, and she remembered the changes in her own appearance: her hair, her makeup, her sexy sweater dress, her high spiked heels … quite a difference from her usual understated style. She'd never been a femme fatale before. She rather enjoyed the effect it was obviously having on him. He looked nothing short of thunderstruck.
"Thought I'd welcome you home," she purred.
He continued to stare, his gaze leaving her face to slowly absorb the rest of her. She began to feel flustered. She wasn't used to this role of aggressor. When his eyes returned to hers, a new, tangible tension charged the air, and she wished he'd take over from here. Surely he'd guessed her intentions! But he made no move toward her at all. In fact, he hadn't even shut the door.
She wet her lips, which had somehow gone dry. "I … I thought I'd surprise you."
"Oh, you did that."
Second thoughts about her impulsive visit and the purpose behind it fluttered in her stomach like butterflies. "You … you don't have plans for tonight, do you?"
"None that can't include you." His soft drawled reply did strange things to her pulse as he shut the door and locked it. "Make yourself at home." He gestured toward the sofa in front of the fireplace, where a small but robust fire crackled. "Guess I'll go throw some clothes on."
Afraid of losing her sensuous mood with too much time to think, she reached out and touched his arm. The muscles of his biceps tightened reflexively beneath her fingers. He felt harder tonight, sexier—and her mood deepened into a physical longing. "No, don't," she implored. "You'd only have to take them off again."
His dark brows drew together, and his stare could only be called stunned. "Why exactly are you here, Brianna?" he asked, his voice hushed and his gaze intent.
So he wasn't going to make this easy for her. Self-consciously she withdrew her hand from his arm. But she did manage to whisper with a pretense of boldness, "I'm ready. I've come here to … you know…"
"No, I'm not sure that I do."
She felt her cheeks grow warm. He evidently didn't want to dea
l with her rejection again … or else he no longer wanted her. "I'm ready to make love to you." In spite of herself, she added on a whisper, "If you want to."
Something flared within his midnight blue eyes, something deep and smoky and powerful. "Mind if I ask what brought about this change? I mean, I can't think of a better welcome home, but—"
"I've had a lot of time to think while you were gone, and I … well, I realized that I've loved you too long to lose this chance." Building up her courage to touch him again, she laid her palm against his freshly shaven face, then caressed her way to his strong square jaw. "Did you know that even back in high school, I wanted to be more than just friends?"
"With me?"
"Yes, with you!" The incredulity of his response—the fact that he hadn't known and that he found it so surprising—endeared him even more to her. He hadn't been ignoring her desire to deepen their friendship into a romance; he'd simply been unaware of it. "I don't have much experience at this seduction thing," she whispered, slipping her arms around his neck and gazing at him in earnest appeal, "so whenever you're ready, feel free to jump right in."
"Brianna," he breathed, his gaze dancing with hers in a slow, sultry tango as she wove her fingers into the thick, damp locks at the nape of his neck, "are you sure?"
"I've never been more sure." And she realized it was true. Never had she wanted him more. As lines furrowed between his brows and a question formed on his lips, she laid her finger prohibitively against them. "Shh. No more talk. Let's just do it."
His gaze underwent a subtle change—a kind of wonder replaced the questions. His strong, warm arms came up around her and he kissed the fingertip she'd laid against his lips … then drew it in with a sucking motion that sent erotic sensations sizzling to every private part of her. She withdrew her finger in weak-kneed surprise. He'd never done anything like that before.
Still holding her gaze, he met her in a tentative tasting kiss. Brianna closed her eyes and savored it. He tasted smooth as brandy, potent as rum. Before she had a chance to reflect anymore on this unexpected delight, the kiss moved and flowed to a new intensity.
HIS DOUBLE, HER TROUBLE Page 1
